Footstool
by Tippens
Summary: Dean/Castiel, BDSM, watersports,forniphilia, vomit!play, Birthday fic for Shilohslaughter


Dean doesn't like to be bad.

He doesn't like disappointing Castiel, he doesn't like the stupid things he does and says, and he doesn't like it when Castiel comes up with insane punishments.

He was being used a footstool. This isn't the first time he's been punished with this, and it most certainly won't be the last.

He was in so much pain.

He was on all fours in his and Castiel's living room, collar too tight around his throat, plug in his ass vibrating painfully against his prostate, clamps digging into his nipples, and Castiel's feet resting heavily on his back.

Dean's cock was hard and leaking pre -cum, the tightest ring Castiel found on its base.

Castiel was relaxing on the couch, lazily flipping the channels. Dean was sure Castiel knew he was in pain, but just didn't care.

Dean heard Castiel turn the TV off, and the pressure on Dean's back was gone. He saw Castiel in his peripheral vision, walking in front of him.

"Up," Castiel said.

Dean go up onto his knees, eye -level with Castiel's crotch.

Castiel clipped a leash onto the ring of Dean's collar.

"Open your mouth," Castiel said, and Dean obeyed. "Why are you being punished?" Castiel asked as he pulled down his boxers, freeing his flushed red cock, and stroking it slowly. Dean's mouth watered. "Answer me, boy."

"Because I came before you said I was allowed to," Dean answered, "and only bad boys cum without permission."

"Suck," Castiel said.

Dean swallowed Castiel's cock in one go, the tip hitting the back of his throat.

Castiel grabbed Dean's hair and thrust his hips, fucking Dean's mouth. Dean moaned and bobbed his head, hollowing his cheeks.

Castiel shoved his cock down Dean's throat, and Dean started to gag. Castiel pulled Dean's mouth off of him and held his head in place as vomited cam out of his mouth, dribbling off his chin onto the carpet.

"Master," he said, "I'm sorry, I didn-"

"Shh," Castiel said, smirking. He release Dean's hair and said "Lick it up."

"What?" Dean said in surprise.

Castiel tugged on the leash and said "Lick up your mess, slut."

Dean leaned down and licked up the yellowish liquid. The taste made him want to puke again, and it burned his tongue and throat.

He felt Castiel step on his head, pushing his face into the vomit, and after a few seconds took his foot off him.

"Get back up," Castiel growled.

Dean knew his face was smeared with his puke, and when Castiel saw it, he grinned.

Castiel, with the hand that wasn't holding the leash, collected the puke with his thumb. He drew hearts and circles on Dean's cheeks.

Dean whined and Castiel smacked him lightly across the face, then tugged lightly on the chain of his nipple clamps. "Quiet."

Dean swallowed, throat still hurting from the vomit.

Castiel smiled and held his cock. After stroking it a few times, a steady stream of piss came out, soaking Dean's face, washing off the drying puke.

His hair was covered in it, piss dripping off the strands.

Droplets rolled down his cheeks and nose, and Dean flicked out his tongue to taste it.

Castiel groaned and started stroking his cock again, faster this time, and grunted as he painted Dean's face with cum, mixing with the piss still dripping off his face.

"Clean my cock," he grunted out, and Dean lick up the taste of piss and cum from his cock, moaning at the taste.

When Castiel was satisfied his dick was clean, he pushed Dean away.

He pulled his boxers up and said "I'm going to get something to eat. When I come back, I want you in chair position."

"Yes, master," Dean said, and as Castiel was about to leave he said "Master, may I please cum?"

"No," Castiel said, and walked into the kitchen.

Dean fought back tears, and got up. He stretched, feeling his stiff joints crack, and wincing when he remembered the nipple clamps. The plug in his shifted slightly, and he whined. His cock was nearly purple now.

He sighed and squatted as he was sitting in a chair. He straightened his back and placed his has arms at his sides, and he kept completely still.

He stayed in that position until Castiel came back, one hour later.

"Good boy," he heard Castiel say. Dean heard him get the remote from the end table, and walked over to him.

He sat down on Dean's thighs, inches away from his clamps and cock. He turned on the TV, and started flipping through the channels.


End file.
